


Poetry in Motion

by Tarlan



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, One-Sided Relationship, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 23:52:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>G wasn't sure what made him buy the house, but having his own place definitely had its perks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poetry in Motion

**Author's Note:**

> Written for: **mmom** 2013 - Day 15

G shifted on his one concession to comfort in his home - a thin mattress in the corner of the room covered with his bedroll. He didn't need possessions, and months after the fact, he was still wondering what had made him buy the house. Admittedly, Hetty had a lot to do with the actual purchasing, but it was mostly Sam who had insisted that he needed some place he could call home that wasn't someone else's couch, a seedy motel room, or an unused cubbyhole in the boat house. He told him it was time he put down some roots, but perhaps this nomadic inclination was a genetic trait. He'd learned some time back that he was the sole survivor of a Roma family.

He sighed as he flopped onto his back, looking up at a ceiling that he remembered from the few happy memories in his childhood. He had been happy in this place for those 3 months as a fourteen year old boy, and perhaps that was as good a reason as he needed for buying the Rostoff house. It just still felt strange though, to come back to the same place most every night for the past year. He couldn't recall ever living anywhere for this long a stretch, and had a feeling that even as a baby his family had moved often to hide from the Comescus. The Comescus had sworn to kill every member of the Callen family in revenge against Callen's grandfather, and they had almost succeeded. As far as G was aware, he was the last of his family.

He sighed again, aware that he was simply putting off what he wanted to do most nights when he was alone - sex.

At least he didn't feel quite so ashamed and guilty of his lustful thoughts now he wasn't sleeping on the couch in Sam's house, only twenty feet away from where Sam's innocent kid slept soundly, and Sam's lovely wife. He loved them almost as much as Sam, and would do most anything for them, so masturbating in their front room on their couch was out of the question.

Here, though, he could freely indulge in his private fantasies that ranged from beautiful women to good looking guys, depending on what took his fancy. His hand crept lower, teasing himself as he pulled a particular fantasy to the front of his mind, recalling the beach earlier and the guy jogging along the sand. Long limbs and firm muscle. A tight ass, narrow waist, broad shoulders and a strong chest. 

Poetry in motion.

He let his hand move with the same rhythm of the feet pounding the sand, steady and firm, breathing in and out as he imagined running after the man, slowly chasing him down. The thrill of the race made his heart beat faster and his hand speed up. So close to reaching out and pulling the guy down onto the soft sand, to pressing his body down on top and...

He came with a gasp, high on the chase and the pleasure for a moment before letting go of the last of the tension in his body and sprawling boneless and sated.

G grinned and sighed softly, silently wondering if his fantasy guy took the same jogging route every day.

END


End file.
